“What if they don’t let us go through?” I ask, trying not to move my lips. “They will,” he answers from the dark recesses of the backseat footwell. “How do you know?” “Because you have the look they’re looking for.” “What look is that?” “Beautiful.” His voice is like a caress from the shadows.”

“He rose to his feet in one fluid move, the better to look down at me. “You don’t know me, princess.Some people have reasons for doing things, and don’t just go wherever they’re told or drift whicheverway they’re pushed.”

“Whats ironic,” he adds, shaking his head, “is that everyone’s so busy trying not to look like they’re looking at you that they’re really not looking at you.”Wait. So what you’re saying…” I pause. “What you’re saying is…people aren’t really looking at me?”

“Joshua?" I called out, a slight hitch in my voice. "Yeah?" "What do I look like to you?" He tilted his head to the side, frowning. "What do I look like to you?" I repeated urgently, afraid that if I didn't talk fast enough, I would have time to realize how absolutely, mind-bogglingly stupid I sounded. Joshua smiled. He answered me, so quietly I almost couldn't hear him. "Beautiful. Too beautiful for people not to have noticed you the other night.”

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.”My stomach lurched. “What do you mean? How does he look at me?”“Like you’re not a student and he’s not a teacher.”

“A shadow is never created in darkness. It is born of light. We can be blind to it and blinded by it. Our shadow asks us to look at what we don’t want to see”